Conversations with Emily
by mabelreid
Summary: A series of conversations between Emily and Reid, starting with a little tag to "Lesson Learned."
1. Opening Gambit

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**_A/n I've been missing Emily, so I decided to do a series of conversations with her and Reid. Some will follow episodes and others will be the result of what I think happened when we're not looking. Please enjoy._**

**_Opening Gambit_**

Emily hefted her new go bag to her shoulder. It felt heavy on her back as she walked to the elevator, but it was a good weight. She'd made it through her first case with the team and learned a few things.

She looked over her shoulder at the bullpen from the elevator and waved to JJ who was talking to Dr. Reid. Morgan was still at his desk and she thought that Gideon had already left. Hotch was gone too.

_Don't you feel the least bit guilty, lying to them?_

She turned back to the elevator and pushed the down button. Now was not the time to think about how she got her transfer. The doors opened and she hurried on the car.

"Hold the elevator, please."

She flashed out a hand to stop the doors. "Hello, Dr. Reid."

"Hello."

He waved at her, which she found cute. He was the skinniest FBI agent she'd ever met but he had interesting eyes.

"So," she said, "Rough couple of days."

"I've learned that surprise is the norm here."

She laughed. "That's true."

He looked at the doors of the elevator car instead of making eye contact. She noticed his long fingers were fidgeting with strap of his messenger bag.

_What does he keep in that thing?_

"So, why were you so upset about losing the chess game?"

"You're direct," Reid said.

"Yes I am. I find life is simpler when you're direct."

"Gideon always wins. I don't know why I keep trying."

She wondered how he would feel if she told him, she knew he was hiding something with that statement. She could see it in the movement of his hands.

"If it makes you feel any better, he beat me too."

"No, it doesn't make me feel better," Reid said, and she laughed.

"Fair enough," she said.

The doors opened on the first floor and she passed by him to the hallway leading to the security station. They passed the desk and Reid said goodnight to the night security guard.

"So," she resumed when he held open the double glass doors that were the entrance to the building. "When _are_ we going to play chess?"


	2. New Friends

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_**New Friends**_

Reid's nose twitched as a hand put a cup of coffee on his desk. He looked up to see Emily.

"I noticed you like your coffee."

Reid picked up the paper cup from Starbucks and sipped. "Perfect," he said and gave her a little smile. "How did you know I like a lot of sugar?"

"I noticed when we were in Gitmo. I thought between the caffeine and the sugar, you'd bounce off the walls, but you didn't, it was kind of impressive considering how many cups you had in one day."

"Morgan says I'm immune to caffeine and sugar, which is impossible. I have a very high metabolism."

Emily narrowed her eyes at him as she took off her coat. "Reid, one thing you need to learn is not to tell a woman, 'I have a have a high metabolism,' you'll get your butt kicked."

"Why?"

"Oh, Reid, that fact that you don't know the answer to that just proves my point."

"What?"

"That you're a very unique individual that does physics magic, loves coffee and knows more obscure facts than anyone I know."

"I read a lot."

"Yes, I know, I've seen you go through an entire book in ten minutes."

"So you think I'm weird like everyone else."

She put down the folder she'd begun to peruse. "No, I said you're unique there's a difference."

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"You're welcome. Great scarf by the way. It looks good on you."

He looked down at his purple scarf. "Thanks, Garcia gave it to me for my birthday a couple of years ago. She said I needed more color in my life."

Emily picked up another cup of coffee from Starbucks. "Here's to coffee, odd facts, purple scarves and new friends."

Reid looked up at her as though he'd forgotten how to speak English for a minute. "Friends," he squeaked.

"Why not?"

"No reason," he said and went back to work with a grin on his face.


	3. Love Chemistry

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**_Love Chemistry_**

"You look a little confused," Emily said as she took a seat across from Reid.

He glanced up from staring out the jet's window. "What?"

"I said… you appear to be a little confused."

"Oh, I suppose I am."

"Why?"

He sighed and folded his hands together over the table. "It's nothing, really. I was thinking about the conversation we had about love chemicals."

"I see."

"I don't," he said with marked confusion. "We've all studied psychopaths. Everything we've learned says that they're incapable of love."

"That's true."

"Most people think that love comes from the heart, but it's actually chemicals in the brain."

"So you told me while surrounded by wind chimes made from human rib bones."

"If that's true," he went on, "then how could Frank Breitkopf love Jane?"

"He doesn't love her, he only thinks he does."

"How do you know?"

She raised her eyebrows at his tone. "Alright, let's say it is possible, that he can love. That must mean there's more to love then your belief that it's only chemicals in the brain."

Reid looked out the window of the jet. "I don't know if I believe that."

"Perhaps one day you'll experience it for yourself."

Reid laughed, but it was a self-deprecating laugh, "I don't think so. Girls don't notice me."

She smiled at him. "You won't believe me, but one day someone will notice you."

"Why don't we agree to disagree on that point?"

"Fine, but can I give you a piece of advice for that day you say will never come?"

He only stared at her.

"Never get between her and chocolate, you'll live longer that way."


	4. Long Distance Comfort

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**_A/n hello all... This next chapter is a sort of tag to "Magnum Opus," I thought I'd keep this linear and follow Reid and Emily from start to finish, but my beta tempted the muse with this idea and here we are. So, I have decided to skip around a little as I have other good ideas for some of my favorite episodes that don't go in order of air time. Thanks again to my wonderful beta and friend REIDFANATIC, and to everyone that reads and follows or adds this to your favorites. You're all the best_**

**_Long Distance Comfort _**

His phone rang and he wanted to throw it against the wall. Why didn't they stop calling him? Why couldn't they understand he wanted to be left alone?

His answering machine began to speak, but this time it was a different voice on the line.

"Reid… Are you there?"

He stared at the wall and tried to pretend that it was JJ or Garcia, but his heart betrayed him as it began to thump in his chest.

"Come on, Reid. Please pick up the phone. Garcia called me. I know what happened and I'm so sorry."

How could she be sorry? She left him… not once, but twice. At least Maeve had - he closed his eyes tight so that the tears wouldn't fall down his chapped and red cheeks.

"Please call me, Spencer. I just want to talk. I care about you."

The machine clicked off and he sat and stared at the phone until the late afternoon sun dipped below the horizon. It was fully dark when he finally rose from the couch and shuffled to his little kitchen. He wanted coffee, but couldn't summon the energy to make it. He just stood there, staring at the maker and wondering when he'd stop feeling like he wanted to die.

The phone rang, its strident tone making him jump in surprise even if he knew it would ring again.

"I know you're there, Reid. Pick up the phone."

Her demanding tone irritated him so much he strode with renewed energy to his yellow phone and yanked up the receiver. "Emily?"

"Reid, I'm so glad you -"

"What do you want?"

She was silent for a minute and then her voice sounded in his ear. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Garcia told me what happened and -"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright, then why don't we talk about something else?"

It was his turn to go silent for long seconds.

"Reid?"

"You don't want to try to make me talk about Maeve."

"Not if you don't want to," she said.

"I don't want to. Why can't everyone understand that? They all call over here asking me if I'm okay. They all want to know if I'm going crazy like my mom."

"You know that's not true."

"Do I?"

"Yes."

He hitched in a trembling breath. "Why did she go away, Emily?"

"I don't know, Spencer. I know she didn't want to go."

"How do you know? Maybe she was glad when Dianne pulled the trigger. Maybe she was happy to be rid of me."

"You don't believe that. She loved you."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Emily. You weren't here when I needed you."

"I'm so sorry, Spencer. I wish I could've been there."

"It doesn't matter. I failed her."

"You didn't -"

"I failed her," he shouted. "She was in trouble and I didn't protect her," he began to sob. "She had a stalker and what did I do, I played games with her life. I thought I was this millennium's answer to Sherlock Holmes, so clever and -"

"You did what you thought was right."

"Don't make comforting excuses for me. I might as well have put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger."

"Spencer, stop it!"

"No. I won't stop it. It's true. I knew better. I'm a goddamn profiler. I should have told team as soon as I knew about Dianne. If I had, Maeve would still be alive."

"You don't know that, Reid."

"I do know it. She's dead, my soul mate is dead and it's my fault."

"I'm not going to argue with you about this, Reid. I know you won't believe me if I try, but I will say this… She loved you. You know that, right.

He closed his eyes and Maeve's face was there, just as it had been the first and only time he saw her. Her eyes were full of trust and love that he didn't deserve. Tears began dripping through his eyelashes to his cheeks and then to his pajama top.

"She shouldn't have loved me. I let her down."

"You didn't let her down. You made her life joyful again."

"She's still dead. She's never coming back."

"I know… I wish I could make it right for you."

He wiped his eyes with one hand. His cheeks hurt and he was so tired.

"I have to go, Emily. I'm tired, and I just want to lie down and forget."

"Go to sleep, Spencer. Call me if you need me. I'm always here, you know that, right."

"Yeah, I know you are. Thanks, Emily."

"Anytime… Now go get some sleep."

CMCMCM

He lovingly slid his copy of "The Narrative of John Smith," into his bookcase. His apartment felt right again, now that his friends had helped him clean it up.

He looked toward the sunlight pouring into the room and smiled. The light didn't sting his eyes as it had for the last two weeks. It didn't make his heart hurt with memories of standing in a phone booth in the sun talking to Maeve.

His phone rang and he answered it on the first ring. "Hello."

"Hey there."

"I'm surprised you called me back. I was so rude to you the last time we talked."

"You were hurting, Reid."

"Yeah, but that doesn't excuse my behavior."

"You don't have to apologize; it's me, your friend. I'm not going to write you off because you were suffering and not in the mood to make nice."

"Thanks for not holding a grudge."

"As I said, we're friends."

"Emily?"

"Yeah…"

"I miss her so much."

"I know."

"Do you mind if -?"

"Of course I don't mind," she said softly, "Tell me about her…"


	5. Out Damn Spot

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_**Out Damn Spot**_

The first thing Emily noticed that morning was his hands. This morning, they didn't remind her of birds in flight. This morning they reminded her of injured birds, floating down like fallen leaves on a bright autumnal morning.

"What's wrong? She demanded as soon as she put her cup of coffee on her desk.

He didn't look up from his file folder, but she could see that he was trying to ignore her rather than lost in his usual intense concentration. She'd come to expect that look in just the few short weeks she'd known him.

"Reid?"

"I'm busy," he finally said, without looking up.

"No you're not," she argued.

"How do you know?"

"Because I know when you're concentrating on work and when you're just trying to pretend you're working."

"Yes, because you know me so well."

"Well, I do admit that I don't know you as well as the rest of the team knows you, but I can tell you're deeply disturbed."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Reid."

"I said; I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine, then take this and put it on your hands. I can see you're in pain."

She pulled a tube of lotion from her purse and tossed it at him. He caught it clumsily and flipped up the cap. He sniffed at it and screwed up his nose. "It smells like roses."

"Too bad, your hands are nearly raw."

"It's none of your business."

"You're right; it's none of my business. Give it here."

She held out her hand to him and snapped her fingers.

He ignored her, pushed out some of the pink lotion on his hands, and rubbed them together. He sniffed again and frowned. "They do feel better."

"I'm glad."

He looked down at his desk. "I can still see blood on my hands."

"From Nathan," she asked kindly.

"Yes… I keep thinking about it. I couldn't sleep last night and I couldn't stop washing my hands. What if I saved him and he kills someone, someday?"

"You don't have the blood of some future victim on your hands."

"I'd ask how you know what I'm thinking, but considering what we do for a living…"

"Reid, you're not Lady Macbeth. You did what you thought was right, what any caring person would do. Stop with the martyr complex."

Anger entered and left his face in the space of about ten seconds. "I still don't know what's going to happen."

"So you're not clairvoyant, who of us is? You did everything you could for him. The rest is up to his doctors and to him."

"But, Gideon said -"

"Never mind what Gideon said," she waved off her new teammate impatiently. "If you look at Nathan's case from the perspective of a profiler, with all the precedents and knowledge gleaned from thousands of interviews, you'd think Nathan is doomed, but I don't agree. Killing is a choice, Reid. Is doesn't matter how damaged someone is inside, or what kind of childhood they had, it is a choice, and like all choices, you can't make it for him."

"I know; I just can't get last night out of my head. He's so broken."

"Yes, he is, but he's not your responsibility."

"That's what Garcia said," he said morosely.

"She's right."

He looked at his red and chapped hands. "How long will it take before I stop seeing all the blood in my head?"

"I don't know, but I do know it won't go away any faster if you keep dwelling on, "the what if's," she pointed out. "I think I know a way to get your mind off it."

He looked up into her dark eyes that didn't give away secrets. "What?"

"You show me how you did that card trick you did last week."

He smiled at her against his will. "No, I told you a magician never reveals his secrets."

"Oh, I think in time I'll figure out what makes Dr. Reid tick."

He now resembled some inscrutable monk living far away from the reach of human misery and sin. "I don't think so," he said so confidently that she laughed.

"We'll see about that."


	6. Physics Magic

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**_Physics Magic_**

"I can feel you staring at me."

He glanced up from his file to glare at Emily in the low light of the nearly deserted bullpen.

"I wasn't staring at you."

Her dark eyes danced despite the irritation in his face. She smiled at him and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"I'm not going to tell you."

"You don't have to tell me. I can figure it out on my own."

He put down his pen and crossed his arms over his chest. "How do you propose to do that?"

"You'll see."

He went back to work with a little smile that twisted one side of his mouth.

CMCMCM

"I told you I'd figure it out."

Reid shook his head. "You watched me the last time."

"I did not. You said turn around and I turned around. Are you calling me a liar?"

"I don't know you well enough to say what you'd do," he retorted.

"You're just irritated because I used something you shun like it's a tool of the devil."

"What are you talking about?" He squeaked.

"The computer, genius, I did a Google search."

"Physics magic isn't on Google."

"Oh really, want me to show you, wise guy."

He slumped in his chair. "Alright, you win."

His eyes lit up when she smirked at him.

"Why are you so happy?"

"Because I'm going to invent a new trick and Goggle -"

"That's Google," Emily interrupted with a giggle.

"Whatever," Reid sniffed. "Google won't have it."

"Are you sure?"

"Emily, I told you, a magician never reveals his secrets."


	7. This Ain't Vegas

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**_This Ain't Vegas_**

"Wanna play poker, Emily?"

She glanced up from her book to see Reid had joined her. Everyone else was asleep on the plane when she looked around so she nodded. "Sure."

"We play for snack food, not money."

She grinned at him as he pulled a deck of cards from his messenger bag and laid them on the table.

"I don't have any snack food."

"That's okay, you can owe me."

Her eyebrows went up. "You think you're going to win."

"Yes."

She laughed. "You are confident."

"You're new to the team, so you haven't seen the poker games we've had. My winning percentage is 93.8%."

"Ooh, I would've thought you'd have a higher percentage than nearly 94%."

She laughed again when he choked on his coffee. "I'm a genius, not perfect."

"Yes, but you're also from Vegas."

"True, but that doesn't mean anything. Not everyone from Vegas is a card shark."

"I've been keeping an eye on the games I've seen in the last couple of weeks, and I can see you're a card counter."

"That's not cheating, it's hedging my bets."

"Try telling that to casino bosses. I'll bet you're banned from most casinos, right?"

He pulled a rather large bag of chocolates from his messenger bag. "Keep talking and I might rethink spotting you."

He waved it at her and she smirked at him. "Are you trying to capitalize on our conversation about chocolate?"

He went scarlet and pushed the chocolates away from her. "NO!" He squeaked. "I didn't mean -"

"I'm just trying to knock you off your game."

He scowled and she giggled. "Give me the candy, Dr. Reid."

He pushed the bag toward her. "You count out twenty-five pieces each."

"Is that all?"

He ignored her and began to make the cards fly through his fingers. She watched him very closely. He watched her watching him and finally smiled. "I promise not to stack the deck."

"To what do I owe the courtesy?"

"You're new to the team, it wouldn't be right."

"Oh, so if I were JJ or Morgan, you'd cheat, right."

He wouldn't make eye contact, and he said. "Are you going to count the chocolates?"

"Hm, avoiding the question, not good, Dr. Reid."

"Can we just play?"

"I'm not stopping you. Deal the cards, genius."

He winked at her, which so astonished her, she nearly knocked some of her chocolate off the table. She decided to pick another piece from the bag. She unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth.

"Hey," he protested as all playfulness left his eyes. "That's mine."

"Maybe next time you'll bring peas in a can, that way I can't steal them before the game's over."

"That's crazy," he said, after going bright red in the face.

"Then back off and let a lady have her chocolate."

He picked up his cards. "Can we play now?"

"I never tried to stop you, Reid. Bring it on."


	8. Let Me Help

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**_Let Me Help_**

He hated this time of year. It was a riot of color and change, just like any year, but it grated on his nerves. It was like someone cut open his brain and ran a fiddle bow across the nerves until they buzzed and sang in total chaos.

There was something that would make it all go away. He hunched over his coffee and tried not to think about it as the darkness pushed in around him from all sides.

"Reid," said the voice he least wanted to hear, and yet something in him made him turn and look at her.

She carried a cup of coffee to his table and sat. He watched her dark eyes. They were bottomless and if he wasn't careful…

"Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you missed a plane. That's not like you."

He picked up his messenger bag and climbed to his feet. God, he needed the needle. It was like a fever in his brain.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"I just want to help."

"Did Gideon put you up to this?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No. I came in here for coffee and saw you sitting out here, in the dark, alone. I wanted to see if you're okay. Despite what you think and despite the fact that I've only know you for a few months, I do care what happens to you."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I know how you feel."

He laughed, but it was a hollow, mocking laugh. "You know how I feel. That's a good one, Emily. You weren't tortured, made to choose who lived and who died. You didn't have a gun pointed at you head while a psycho played "Russian Roulette," while claiming to be the voice of God. You didn't die."

"No," she grabbed his arm. "You're right, I didn't go through hell, like you did, but-"

"Let go of me." He yanked his arm from her grasp.

His eyes were blazing and his chest heaved. His hands were shaking so badly he thought they might shatter at the wrists.

"I didn't go through what you did, but I did see you die, Reid. All of us saw him torture you, make you choose one of us to die. We all watched him pull the trigger on that gun over and over again."

"Stop it," he said and there were tears in his voice.

She lowered her voice because another couple had come outside.

"What ever you're going through, I only want to help you."

"I just want it to stop."

He sat down and reached for his cooling cup of coffee but he didn't drink it. His shadowed eyes searched her face, but there was nothing to find, but compassion and it burned him like acid.

"I - Emily, please just let it go."

He stood and she let him go. He hurried away as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. He stopped at the corner and turned around. He could still see her sitting at the table with her coffee. Everything in him itched for the needle except one little corner of his heart. It made him take a step toward her, but when he crossed halfway back to the table, she abruptly arose and walked away. He stopped and watched her disappear. His hands shook and his chest hurt.

Too late.


	9. If You've Got It, Flaunt It

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**_A/n this follows after "Legacy," one of my favorite episodes. Thanks for reading._**

**_If You've Got It, Flaunt It._**

"So?"

"So what?"

Emily laid aside the seven of hearts she'd been trying to play. Unfortunately, it was a dismal hand of solitaire. She met Reid's eyes and he flinched.

"Spill," she commanded sweetly.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

He sat back in his chair, but he wouldn't make eye contact. She grinned at him and slapped his hand when he picked up the seven of hearts she'd discarded.

"This is my game. Stop trying to horn in."

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

She looked around the cabin of the jet, but Hotch was deep in paperwork, JJ and Morgan were asleep, and Gideon was writing his report on the case.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Reid."

"I guess I must've misjudged you, Emily."

"Why?"

"I didn't think you're like most women. I was glad that you're not."

"I'm going to regret asking, but what do you mean?"

"Most women say things like, "If you don't know I'm not going to tell you," to a man as a subtle passive aggressive ploy for the upper hand. I thought you were different."

"What does that have to do with this conversation?"

"You refuse to say what's on your mind. You expect me to guess. How can I possibly know what you want me to say if you don't ask?"

"Oh, but you don't need to guess, you know exactly what I'm asking."

He picked up the draw pile and took three cards from the top. "It's cheating if you take one at a time."

"We're not in Vegas and stop trying to distract me, magic man."

"I don't know what you're so upset about."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not upset, but if you don't stop messing with my game, I'm going to hurt you."

He put down her draw pile and slid the cards to her. "Here you go. I'll just go and -"

"Oh, no you don't, Dr. Reid. Sit down and talk to me."

"I am talking to you," he said as he sat and folded his hands together. "It's not my fault if you don't like the topic of conversation."

"Geez, give it a rest. I simply want to know what is up with you and prostitutes, that's all. You'd think I was asking for our country's nuclear launch codes.

"Actually -"

"Reid!"

"Alright, you don't have to shout, you'll wake everyone."

"I'm not shouting."

"I don't know what to tell you because I don't know what you mean. It's not my fault they hit on me. I didn't do anything."

She smiled at his squeak. His face was rosy red and he wouldn't look at her.

"It was embarrassing," he whispered loudly.

"I'll bet it was."

"May we please talk about something else?"

She put down the Queen of Hearts over the King of Spades and said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't care. Anything is better than the current topic."

She studied him closely for a moment. His hands were steady, but there was something in his eyes…

"Emily."

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"That's what I do," he quipped.

"Yeah, I know."

He finally smiled at her and his face lit up like the sun. If he smiled at the working girls that way, then it was understandable they'd all want him. She cleared her throat just a little and finally set down her cards. "I give up."

"I won't," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm gonna get more coffee."

She watched him get up and walk away. Yeah, he was skinny and he dressed like a reject from the world of seventies nerd fashion, but there was just something about him.

"No, I'm definitely not giving up," she said under her breath.

She picked up the cards and began to deal another hand.


	10. Mommy Dearest

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**_Mommiy Dearest_**

"Is this seat taken?" Reid asked Emily.

"Only by you," she replied cheerfully.

He sat and opened his messenger bag. She watched him from one corner of her eye as he removed a pad of paper and a pen. When he began to write, she leant her head against the edge of the window. The train pulled away from the station and began the journey toward home. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind from the events of the day.

She didn't know how much time passed, but something shifted next to her and woke her from the light doze she had reached without knowing when faked sleep, had turned to actual sleep.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't worry about it. If you weren't here, I'd probably miss my stop," she laughed. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

"Yeah," he said softly.

His eyes held a special brand of pain that day. They reminded her of a small child alone in the world.

"Everything okay."

He rubbed at his eyes with the fingertips of both hands. "It's nothing, just me thinking too much, as usual."

"I meant what I said," she said gently. "I just want to help."

He gave her a weak smile that was the shadow of its former self. "Thanks… I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I was thinking about Frank Breitkopf and the body in that apartment. She was his mother and he just left her there in that room. How could he just leave her there?"

"She was responsible for who he was," Emily said. "I think he loved her and hated her at the same time."

"I know this is going to sound morbid, but I keep thinking about my mother. What if I'd let her stay in her home and left her there to fend for herself. What if she died and no one knew if for months or a year, like his story."

"Why are you thinking about something that's never going to happen? You and Frank Breitkopf are nothing alike, Reid."

"I know, but I can't help drawing some parallels."

"You have a healthy relationship with your mom. He had a very unhealthy one with his mother."

He didn't say anything, just pulled out the notebook from his bag. "I write to her every day. She says I do it because I feel guilty. The truth is that it started out that way, but not anymore. I like telling her about my day and the cases we have."

"If you want me to tell you that's needy and pathetic, I'm not going to say it. I think its sweet and kind. Most people don't bother with calling their mom once a week, let alone every day. You'll never lose touch and you'll always have a wonderful relationship with her. Don't let anyone make you feel like there's something wrong with you because you're close."

"Emily," he said after a minute."

"What?"

"Thanks."

She grinned at him and he smiled back.

"You're welcome."


End file.
